


Death to Terry Milkovich Party

by girlunafraid23



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Family Drama, Gen, M/M, Protective Behavior, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:03:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlunafraid23/pseuds/girlunafraid23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The past week had been long and hard for the Gallagher family, even with Fiona winning temporary custody until the state deems she's capable of being responsible for her five siblings. The first night back home everyone was celebrating together downstairs, except Ian. All he could think about was Mickey's final look before he turned away completely. "</p>
<p>I wrote this a while ago, after episode 3x06 and I didn't know if I wanted to post it, but have mercy if it's horrible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death to Terry Milkovich Party

The past week had been long and hard for the Gallagher family, even with Fiona winning temporary custody until the state deems she's capable of being responsible for her five siblings. The first night back home everyone was celebrating together downstairs, except Ian. All he could think about was Mickey's final look before he turned away completely. It didn't matter if Mickey was avoiding him to keep them alive or not, it hurt either way. Ian didn't want his final vision of him to be fucking some Russian prostitute.

Ian was laying on his bed staring up at the ceiling while everyone else laughed close by. He hadn't slept properly all week, with Mickey's face always waiting for him when he shut his eyes. The quiet in the room was interrupted only when Lip strolled in, acting casual, as if he hadn't noticed how distant Ian had been, "You okay? You've looked pretty shitty all week."

Lip had been trying to get Ian to talk when he stumbled back into the group home they were staying at, with blood stained all over his pale skin. But Ian didn't say anything, just that he was fine and the kid had barely talked to anyone since.

There were a few moments of silence before Ian could even lift his head to look at Lip, but that one look was enough. Ian's throat felt like it was closing up as he searched his head for words to explain what happened, but all he could find was the feeling of watching Mickey with the Russian, how he felt so helpless and wished the beating would've just continued instead of this. 

"Terry walked in." 

Those three words made Lip understand how fucked up and serious this situation was right away, and Ian watched his older brother stutter, trying to ask what happened but having too many other fucking questions in the way. "What? Ian did he-are you- how did you- what happened with- WHAT THE FUCK IAN?" 

Ian flinched at Lip's voice and with a shaky breath, started to explain what happened, "Terry walked in on us and he started to beat us. He pulled a gun on me and then he called someone. All I can remember is some woman coming over and Terry telling her that, that she was gonna fuck the faggot out of Mickey and I was going to fucking watch. I had to fucking watch, Lip. I haven't seen Mickey since I left his house and I don't think he'll ever want to see me again. All I see is that when I close my eyes. I can't fucking deal with this Lip!" The rage Ian had been hiding was bubbling up to the surface, his face turning red, getting to his feet as he yelled.

Lip stepped forward, trying to place his hands on his younger brother's shoulders to get him to calm down but Ian was already pushing past him and running down the stairs and out the front door. He couldn't talk about what was happening, he had to get away from his house. The happiness everyone else felt from being reunited was suffocating. Ian was unsure how to feel about anything right now, he couldn't imagine trying to explain.

But it didn't take long for Ian to collapse, knowing full-well that he couldn't out run his thoughts. He was at the baseball fields that he fucked Mickey at after he was released from juvie the first time. He stood at home plate and tried to imagine what he would be doing right now if Terry hadn't walked in. He felt, for the first time, Mickey was finally accepting that they were more than just fuck buddies. 

Ian was so lost in what could've been, he didn't hear anyone walk over. He jumped when he heard a grunt from behind him, turning around quickly, hoping to be faced with Mickey, but instead he met face-to-face with Terry Milkovich's fist. "You fucking faggot, I should kill you. One Milkovich wasn't fucking enough for you?" Each word Terry spat was met with a punch to the face. Ian could already feel blood pouring out of his mouth and nose and forehead. He felt like he was on fire from the pain pulsing through his entire face. 

Terry Milkovich held no mercy, but no one had ever expected him to. The man was a professional at beating people until the point that death seemed like the better option. Ian gurgled on the blood spilling down his throat as he thrashed underneath him. Ian pushed his hand against his face, trying to push him off in a desperate attempt, which reminded him of Mickey before Terry pistol-whipped him. He wanted to laugh at the irony but was too busy choking on his own blood and spit to try. Ian could barely see, his eyes were already swelling shut and all he saw was the blood pouring into his line of vision. Terry stopped for a moment. "I should kill you," he said again, the rage and disgust in his voice too clear for Ian to miss. 

The older Milkovich started going on a full rant about Ian fucking Mickey when a confused voice called out from behind him, "Dad, what the fuck are you doing." Terry raised his head for a moment to look back at the person talking. He grunted, "get the fuck out of here Iggy."

Ian would have never expected Iggy to say anything if he found Terry beating someone. He figured he would just nod his head and continue on his way, because all the Milkovich kids knew that you never questioned Terry's motives to kill someone. It was quiet for a moment before Terry yelled, "He's trying to turn Mickey into some faggot! I'm not going to have some ass-bandit in the family! So either help me kill this pussy or fucking leave!" 

"I don't think Mandy will be very happy if you kill him though. I mean, aren't they like dating or some shit," Iggy said, like the half-wit he was. Terry practically growled in Iggy's direction and his weight pulled off of Ian for only a minute before Ian heard Iggy running in the opposite direction.

Nothing was going to save Ian and now all he could think about was how he was about to die. His mind thought back to Mickey, wondering how he would react to his death. Fiona was going to freak and this was not an honorable death, to say the least. Terry Milkovich turned back to his body and seemed to study it for a minute, his breathing stuttering for a moment, before raising his fist and slamming it back into Ian's cheekbone. Ian grunted and choked on the blood, trying to turn his head before he drowned in it. Fuck, there is definitely a reason no one fucks with the Milkovich family. He thrashed underneath him again, his survival instincts taking charge. Ian's body panicked as he continued to choke and gurgle. 

But Terry was relentless and it was clear he was planning on beating Ian to death in the middle of the local baseball field. Ian vaguely thought that it was an appropriate place to die, at least. For what felt like hours, Terry beat Ian's face in with nothing but he bare fists. He could only wonder how long it would take until he lost too much blood. He couldn't see out of his swollen eyes anymore and his body was caught between numb and blistering pain. His chest burned from every hit he recieved. 

Ian, thinking he was now dreaming, heard a series of people running towards them, shouting something he couldn't make out. Terry didn't move from punching the redhead's face in until Ian heard a crack above him and Terry's body fell on him for a moment until he was pulled off completely. He felt a hand on his cheek, gentle but still enough pressure to make him wince. "Ian, Jesus Christ, we need to get you out of here," it was Fiona's voice, worried but still stern, as always. Ian tried to say something to her but instead he could only turn slightly to spit up the blood that had been choking him. "Oh God, Ian."

"What the fuck is this? Are you protecting that fucking faggot," Terry demanded at the person, or people, who interrupted him.

A gruff voice Ian would have recognized anywhere responded, "Yeah, we fucking are." Ian felt, even through the pain, his body burn with some happiness that Mickey wasn't giving up yet. He had come to keep his dad from murdering him. That definitely meant something.

"This is what we'd like to call the Death to Terry Milkovich party," Mandy's voice said, her voice icy and full of venom. "If you haven't noticed, there's a lot of fucking people who want you dead and no one who wants you to stay alive, Dad."

Ian squirmed on the ground, trying to find his footing. Fiona's hand held him in place, her quiet voice trying to calm him, "Just stay still for a minute Ian, okay? We'll get you out of here soon." Ian could hear the sound of people beating Terry Milkovich. There was shouting and they had brought something with them, baseball bats or something. Ian could hear the crack of the weapon against Terry's skull. Terry was like a fucking grizzly bear though, because even though he'd never win this fight, he would still try. 

Mandy let out a groan once and the fight seemed to heaten even more after that. "I'll fucking kill you!" Mandy's voice was filled with so much rage, that Ian couldn't help but think she was finally releasing years of hatred for her father. Mickey hadn't said anything the way Mandy had, but it was sure that he was leading the fight.

When it finally ended, someone said something quietly to Terry, a demanding, hard voice, which was answered with a grunt by Terry while he tried to hide his defeat. One last hit was thrown into Terry, before the attention was turned to Ian.

"You okay Ian," Lip's voice said as he and someone else helped Ian up, while he winced and stumbled to his feet. All of his weight was being held up by Lip and from the smell of it, Jimmy. Ian could only moan in response. "That a boy, Ian," Lip said, pulling him up closely from under his arm. Ian mumbled something incoherent to his brother, but it went unnoticed.

Time walking back to the Gallagher house seemed to take forever, having to stop twice for Ian to throw up the blood swimming in his throat and mouth. "Jesus fucking Christ, Ian," He heard Jimmy say from beside him, struggling to hold him up completely while blood dripped down Ian's chin.

"How's he holding up," Fiona asked once while Ian's head bobbed up and down, while he slumped more into Lip's side. "Fucking dandy, it seems," Lip said sarcastically, before Ian leaned over to throw up the second time.

When they finally got home, Fiona started barking orders of the best way to get Ian inside in one piece. "I'll stand in front of him and help you guys lead him up the steps. Mickey, stand behind him in case he falls backwards and Mandy get the fucking door. Try not to fucking drop him, Lip."

"Tell that to Jimmy, I'm doing most of the goddamn work here. The pussy is barely fucking helping," Lip huffed, trying to support Ian's weight and find the porch steps with his feet. 

Jimmy let an unamused snort out, "Fuck you Lip. The kid is practically sweating blood all over the place." Ian heard Lip mumble 'pussy' under his breath, but they stopped fighting when Fiona yelled, "Enough!"

"Holy fuck," Kevin said when they all managed to stumble up the stairs, and through the front door. Ian was lead towards the couch slowly, coughing and wincing when his body hit it all at once. "Get the fuck out of the way," Veronica said, sitting down in front of Ian on the coffee table, her hand ghosting over Ian's face, studying each wound.

Ian was too tired for this and he tried to tell everyone that, tell them something, but all that came out was this weird mumbling noise that no one could understand. He could barely understand what anyone was saying, all their voices turned into a muffling noise like he was trapped in a vaccuum. 

Veronica was shouting at people to get her different things and Ian felt a wet rag touch his face. He couldn't tell if it hurt at first, so he winced by instinct before relaxing into it with a sigh of relief. Vee wiped the blood up and someone else held an ice pack to different parts of his face after the blood was cleaned off. "Help me get his shirt off," she said to someone standing next to her. Ian grunted in pain as they pulled it off over his head, being forced to stretch out his side to lift his arms up.

"Jesus Ian," Fiona said, her voice cracking slightly when she saw the bruises that lined his stomach and chest. When the clean-up process was all over and Veronica finally told Ian he could sleep, it only took a second for him to drift off, his body too tired to dream for the first time all week. 

 

When Ian woke up, his head pounded and his entire body ached. He moaned as he lifted his head slightly, his eyes still swollen but he was able to open them enough to see. "Jesus, don't fucking move, okay," a voice told him. Ian turned his head towards the person talking and his eyes met Mickey's. He couldn't tell if it was just because Mickey was here and alive and talking to him or the fact that he was looking at Ian like he was making sure he didn't disappear on him that made Ian's heart pick up speed. 

"Hey," Ian said, his voice scratchy and tired. It was quiet between them before Mickey let out a sarcastic snort, "Hey."

It was quiet again, the tension between them obvious. Finally Mickey coughed and sat down in front of him on the table. Ian watched as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Finally he mumbled, "Sorry." And, even though Mickey shouldn't have been surprised by this, Ian shook his head and said, "Don't be." 

Mickey looked up at his bruised face and scowled, "Don't be sorry my dad tried to beat you to death because of me? Jesus Gallagher, I don't fucking get you. Lip said you've been fucking distant or some shit all week and now you're telling me not to be sorry that you were almost fucking murder which is my fault! How can I not be, alright?"

Mickey's face was red and his heart was racing, but his anger fell short when he saw Ian smiling weakly at him. Mickey cursed him for having that effect on his emotions. "Mick, you're here. That's enough for me." At first Mickey scoffed, trying to hide how relieved he felt that he managed to get to him before he was dead. Ian was looking up at Mickey like he wasn't just South Side trash and Mickey could only chew his bottom lip before letting his shoulders sag down, "I still don't fucking get you, Firecrotch."

Ian's face brightened at the nickname which made Mickey chuckle, despite himself, "You're so fucking gay." Ian smiled at him, but didn't say anything at first.

It took a while for Ian to look at anything else but Mickey, but finally his eyes glanced around the room, "Where is everyone?" 

Mickey shrugged, "Not entirely sure. When your sister saw you this morning, I thought she was going to start fucking crying all over you like you were dead. Fiona and her fucking pussy boyfriend took her and your brothers out when she started asking if you would ever wake up. Mandy and Lip went out to get food I think, so they'll be back soon, I guess."

"Do we have anything to drink? I think my throat is on fire," Ian said, his voice so scratchy it made Mickey wince from the sound of it. Mickey walked into the kitchen and filled up a cup of water. The whole situation felt overwhelmingly strange to him and he tried to hide his blush as he handed the water over and started to help Ian sit up so he didn't choke.

Ian gulped down the entire water in under a minute and moaned after like it was best thing he had ever tasted. Mickey couldn't help but laugh at his stupid fucking smile. Ian turned towards the sound and smiled bigger than Mickey had ever seen before. 

"How the hell did you guys find me last night," Ian said, slumping back into the couch only to flinch when his shoulders his the arm rest. Mickey badly wanted to reach out and touch him, trace the cut that stretched from his temple to cheek but he would never fucking do that so he let the feeling itch at him.

The feeling distracted Mickey from the question long enough for Ian to turn towards him, his eyes concerned even though he was the one that sprayed blood over everyone last night. "Iggy found me last night to tell me and then we came here and all ran over to find out what was happening. Lip is a protective mother fucker when it comes to you. In the state he was in, he would've been able to kill Terry with just the baseball bat he was carrying."

Mickey's fingers twitched when Ian turned towards him slightly, his eyes fluttering in an attempt to stay open. "I didn't think I'd ever seen you again," Ian whispered, while he relaxed against the couch again until his breathing became even and he had fallen asleep. Mickey stared at him, cursing himself for being so fucking thoughtless and letting himself feel something for this stupid ginger kid who buried himself under his skin. 

Even with Ian's soft snores, Mickey couldn't help but mumble, "I can't stay the fuck away from you, Gallagher."

**Author's Note:**

> There isn't enough Gallavich fanfiction so here is my attempt.


End file.
